


Pain

by AnxiousBlueBear



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Sexual Content, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29738355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousBlueBear/pseuds/AnxiousBlueBear
Summary: A short journey through Tommy's relationship with someone he once thought of as a friend.((Heed the tags!  Not a fluffy story, quite heavy with rape/non-con elements, though not too much explicit detail.))
Relationships: Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	1. Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Heed the warnings in the tags, please. If you're to hate, leave a nicely worded comment, not just mindless screaming. If I believe that the comment has no value for an actual discussion, I will delete it to keep the comments a positive place.
> 
> Lastly; I am not attempting to glorify pedophilia, nor rape or sexual assault. I'm interested in psychology, and the dynamic is of someone remaining in such a situation, despite it being harmful, simply because they feel it's easier to remain than to fight to get away.
> 
> Read the bottom notes about suggesting story ideas!

It's easy, practiced. Wilbur's arms encircle his waist, hands warm on his skin. Their breathe mingles together, burning hot in the cold air.

Tommy falls back to the older again and again, never succeeding in truly breaking away. For how deeply it hurts, he can never bring himself to run.

It hurts when they touch. Tommy’s skin feels as if it’s burning at the touch, bubbling up under intense heat. Wilbur never seems to feel the same, constantly drawing the younger in for more, never satisfied.

It feels like acid burning his lips when Wilbur kisses him. The first time it was searing, intense pain, as if someone had poured boiling water down his mouth and throat. The second, that familiar pain flared up in his mouth, attacking the still raw flesh.

Tommy can barely even feel the burning anymore, his nerve endings gone numb to the corrosive feeling. Now all that remains when Wilbur claims his mouth is the prickle of disgust in the back of his mind.

It never stops him from returning the kisses, however. He responds desperately, mouth wide for the older man. He can feel Wilbur smile against his lips, and Tommy presses himself closer to the older, determined to keep his lips occupied to keep Wilbur from speaking. It always feels like bitter lemon juice splashed onto an open wound when Wilbur talks, so fond of belittling the boy and making fun of him. 

He pushes the boy down easily, hovering over him like a predator pinning his prey. Tommy can feel tears come to his eyes, his body momentarily rebelling against being held down, before going limp. Struggling never changes the outcome.

Wilbur smiles again, trailing one lithe hand down Tommy's body, feeling how he unconsciously twitches away from him. 

In a few minutes, Tommy's moaning, fist clenched in his jaw. ' _It's cruel'_ , Tommy laments to himself and Wilbur works his mouth around him.

_'He can never just let me be in pain. He has to go off and make me feel good while he's doing this.'_

Because it would be easier, then, to hate this. It would make it so much easier to hate _Wilbur_ , to curse the man and run from his greedy hands. It would be easier if his friend just used him and threw him away, rather than pressing small kisses to his thighs and cock, looking at him with such out-of-place softness. 

" _W-Wilbur... I- stop... please."_

He looks up, his eyes meeting Tommy's. His lips turn up, going back to the steady torture.

The boy sobs, an arm flinging up to cover his eyes. There are no tears left for him to shed, but his body seems determined to try.

Wilbur's only response is a hum, and is makes Tommy cry out as his hips buck up towards the older, chasing the pleasure. That pleasure that Wilbur is so willing to give. When he goes limp again, Wilbur comes closer, kissing his cheeks and neck. 

_"I love you."_

And it would hurt less if Wilbur sounded like he didn't mean every word of it. It would hurt less if Wilbur didn't look at him fondly while he made the boy scream in pain. But he does and it _burns_ Tommy.

Because he knows that he will never be able to return that same sentiment. This older man, who's taught him like a brother and talked with him like a friend. He will never be able to look at the older and feel what Wilbur does for him. 

Wilbur assures him that it will come someday. That loving someone is something that needs to be learned.

Tommy hopes it comes soon. He hopes, as Wilbur spreads his legs, that it will make everything hurt less.


	2. Medium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey uh  
> Review the notes for commenting from the last chapter, but feel free to leave a review or smthn. <3 
> 
> I would appreciate requests... if anyone has good psychological exploration ideas for these characters... that'd be pretty cool :)

When Tommy gets home, he cries. It's not unexpected, he usually finds himself baricaded in his room after one of Wilbur's visits.

Tears stain his bedsheets as he curls up on top of them, head boxed in between his arms. The only light is that which shines through his window, the sky beginning to darken as afternoon shifts to night. It makes him scowl, knowing that the world dares to continue turning whilst he lays here, broken.

He wants to curse his parents for not noticing, to scream that it's their fault for not looking closer. For not picking up on every tiny signal, for not understanding every gentle flinch. He feels selfish for it, but he desperately wants to cry out and beg them to notice that something is _wrong_ with him. Everything feels like it's hidden behind an impenetrable dam, only able to be broken if someone on the outside takes notice.

The thought flashes in his mind, that perhaps no one has noticed because they don't _care_ enough about him to look deeper. It's a selfish thought, but in his quiet self-doubt, the thought echoes like a whisper within a cavern. 

His skin is still raw from the older male's touch; sensitive and aching. The sheets of his bed rub at the exposed flesh and bring his mind back to Wilbur. How the older man had held him against soft sheets, a stark contrast to the pain burning under his flesh. 

Tommy unconsciously cowers, head tucked under him arms, tears falling from his eyes and soaking his pillow. Memories flash in front of him, some of them nightmares from the depths of his soul, and others taunting memories of when he didn't spend his Sunday afternoons _crying_.

Wilbur's face haunts him. The soft skin of his cheeks, firm bone structure laying underneath. The face of a man he once considered a friend. Kind eyes turned cold and harsh, only to fall back to something akin to-

(Tommy won't say it, not that four-letter word the Wilbur so desperately yearns to fall from the boy's lips. He's afraid that saying it will make it real, that feeling the soft formation his mouth makes upon speaking the word will cause the nightmares to step into the daylight. He thinks that it's mocking, how soft and _sweet_ the word seems at first, only to throw him into a cold and unbreakable grip. _Love_.)

Obsession. Infatuation. Perversion.

Tommy imagines himself in a world where Wilbur was normal. A world where they were something like brothers. A world where Tommy isn't scared to wake up each morning and check his phone, lest a particularly unsavory text comes from the older.

A world in which Tommy smiles and laughs and _lives his life_ , unknowing of the horrors that lie beneath every storybook ending. A version of himself that doesn't recoil at Wilbur's touch, a version of himself that doesn't cry himself to sleep while imagining Wilbur laying there next to him.

(Because for everything that Wilbur had done to him, Tommy still cries out in the night for the man, like a child searching for his big brother to scare the monsters away. For every burning touch, for every bit of his innocence claimed by the older, Tommy can't help but _yearn_ for the friend he once had. The man worthy of his _love_.)

The boy lays in his bed and cries, tears seemingly held from earlier, only to be released now. In the quiet of his bedroom, he weeps for the life he's lost. He mourns for the life that Wilbur has stolen from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reread the chapter; but only substitute 'Tommy' for 'author' and 'Wilbur' for 'The Catholic Church'. And you'll start to see my views on religion. I mean... more-so the toxic relationship than the rape but... y'know. I write weird artistic tidbits about psychology and emotions. So this is kind of a marriage between my frustrations about organized religion and interest in psychological explorations through writing... yep
> 
> (Pshhhhh whaaaaat, chapter titles being 'easy,' and 'medium' ? No idea... totally no third part planned titled 'hard,' ...)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to request ideas for me to write in the comments! I've been inspired to write recently, but have very few ideas... I can't guarantee everything will be written (And I'm not interested in mindless glorification or rape or pedophilia... so fully written-out smut for no purpose is something that I won't be doing!), but there's a chance that I'll see a comment I like and write about it!
> 
> Hey, little fun fact; I wrote this story thinking about Catholicism! It seems like a really weird thing, but it is based off of the toxic dynamic that a religion asks of it's followers. Most of the feelings within this story are from my own struggle with faith, always feeling horrible and in pain, but going along with it because it's easier than fighting back. I wanted to see just how closely these feelings could be applied to a seriously toxic relationship as portrayed here! Quite obviously, the comparisons to kissing and sex are not at all my experiences in the Catholic Church, but more so the constant returning to something that's toxic because it's the easiest solution. (As well for the ending bit; giving in and just hoping that you'll eventually find love...)


End file.
